Out of Control Voyuerism

I'm late again. And about to be even later after I'm done writing this. Want to know why I'm late?

Celebrity gossip. Really. How stupid is that? Why do I care that Britney has chopped off all her hair and looks really awful or that Anna Nicole Smith lost her shit at Myrtle Beach (that was really freaking funny.) I'm addicted... I envy these people and I love to make fun of them. I used to feel that they should be left alone... they're just doing their job and how would I like it if every time I stepped out of the house there were photographers in my face?

And you know what? It's NOT me! It's never going to be me--I am never going to be a celebrity or have as much money as these people have. Sooooooo, GO GETTUM!! Tell me everything stupid or embarrassing they do so I won't envy them anymore... Make me glad that I don't have to "make sure I wear cute sweats to Starbucks" (as Crazy Katie Holmes has said.) I like that I can wander around in jeans that haven't been washed in a week with my greasy hair and no makeup and not worry that someone is going to wonder if I've turned into a crackwhore.

You know what else? The celebrity-voyeur craze has gotten so out of control that even minor Has-beens are cashing in. Anyone seen an episode of Being Bobby Brown? I hope neither he nor Whitney ever works again after allowing themselves to be taped behaving like that. I want to look away or turn the channel but I can't... I want to see what they're going to do next. And I guess that's the draw to these shows. What will they do to fuck up next? WATCH AND SEE!! (and be glad it isn't you!)

Stubby Chubby

Dude!

I have allowed myself to become so FAT!! My clothes still fit, but there is girth and bulge where there used to be none. I blame bf. He always buys the BEST ice cream!! And what can I do but eat it? I never buy junk for myself, but if it's around, it's going in my mouth. Repeatedly.

RESTRAINT, RESTRAINT, RESTRAINT. Riiiiiiiiiiiight. I joined a gym last week and have been... oh, it's been.... once, now. I keep meaning to go but something seems to come up. Funny how that happens. I wish I had a potion like on that movie with Goldie Hawn and Meryl Streep where they live forever but don't take good care of themselves and start falling apart--literally (it's icky)... okay, maybe that's a bad idea (and not such a great movie either.)

Well, wish me luck. I'm going to try to avoid eating this delicious chocolate cake my roommate made to take to her friend's house and now WILL NOT. She KNOWS about my junk food addiction but REFUSES to help. What an ENABLER. Damn.

FOOTBALL ROCKS!!!

So I went to get a credit card today. I want it for work--I have an expense account but I rarely have money to spend for it. A credit card with a limit the exact amount of my expense account would be perfect, right?

I have yet to find out if I was approved. There are some questionable, uh, let's say... instances, in my past that may land me on the disapproval list.

Okay. Let's be honest. There are more than a few instances that would make them want to kick me out of the building laughing the whole way. And with each question the bank guy asked, I got more anxious. I tore my nails to pieces while I was sitting there... I hope the guy didn't notice. I almost started laughing imagining this nice professional guy get so upset that someone like me would dare to ask him for a line of credit that he'd pick up his computer, shirt splitting the the Hulk, throw it out the window while roaring GET OUT (like Ahnold) !!!!

But of course... it was all in my head. Real life is never as dramatic or spontaneous as I imagine it.

I just finished watching Any Given Sunday and I might just watch it again. I love football movies! I can't wait for football season to start. I was never a huge football fan but I love all the drama and superstition that diehard fans get wrapped up in--especially my bf. He and his friends are so superstitious, they'll wear the same clothes without washing them, insist on sitting in the same place and one friend of bf's had to squeeze my shoulder every time we had the ball. He insisted I was his good luck charm. It was kind of cute but it kind of hurt--he was pretty drunk and it was an intense game. Anyway. I love that stuff.

What's that? There's beer in the fridge? I'm there.

Alright. I'm out.

Party like a Rock Star

Happy Fourth of July!

I hope everyone is recovering nicely. I did my partying Sat night so I was able to enjoy all the sparkly explosiveness without fear (of losing a limb--we set our own fireworks off--more on that later.) I think it's a good idea at an outdoor party at 4 o'clock in the afternoon on the 2nd of July to serve water outside along with beer. I was outside, beer was outside, water was far away, inside. So what did I drink as if it were water? You guessed it.

Water would not have turned me into the raging retard that the beer did. My bf is so wonderful--when he saw how extremely drunk I was getting, he stopped drinking so he could drive me home (about 20 mins away.) I fell up some stairs, I smoked some weed, I made business deals to promote my friend's salon in return for free haircuts, I woke up with black and green bruises all over my legs (stairs?) and had the most horrific hangover at 4am. It was an awesome party. My ex was there and although I was worried that that would turn into an ugly scene (which I always worry about when he is around--he is very hard to handle when he's drunk) we managed to stay away from each other ( I think) and a good time was had by all.

This morning I'm racing around trying to get ready for my meeting... back to work! Chop Chop!